


Equal Persons, Unequal Things

by statisticsfag



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Burns, Canon Disabled Character, Depression, Disability, Drama, F/M, Fantasizing, Graphic Description of Injury, Horrible Author, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, More tags to be added, Penectomy, Penis removal, Prosthesis, R&D team, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Spoilers, VKaz, angry Kaz, f/m - Freeform, in several senses of the word, injuries, m/m - Freeform, mentions of canon-typical violence, poppers, why isn't that a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statisticsfag/pseuds/statisticsfag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was no reason for animosity between them. They were the same. They were both pawns and puppets, cogs in someone else’s plan. Toys to be discarded after their owner lost interest. Perhaps now they could set the past behind and start anew.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But hence arise all disputes and quarrels, when equal persons have unequal things, or unequal persons have and have assigned to them equal things." - Aristoteles, Nicomachean Ethics

There was no reason for animosity between them. They were the same. They were both pawns and puppets, cogs in someone else’s plan. Toys to be discarded after their owner lost interest. Perhaps now they could set the past behind and start anew.

It was a difficult thing, letting go of the past. Especially as it seemed to haunt Kazuhira with every step. But now, he noticed one evening before he fell asleep that he hadn’t had a single thought about Big Boss – John - all day. For the first time in what seemed like years. Small victories.

His anger had dissipated somewhat, partly turned inwards on himself. Hate and revenge were as good a thing as any to keep a man going, to keep him struggling against all odds. But his revenge was now simmering in the back of his mind, waiting for the son to mature. Right now, Diamond Dogs was his home, his present and his future.

Soldiers could hear him coming in the quiet hallway, familiar with the distinctive rhythm of his walking stick and uneven step. He considered a better prosthetic, something with better weight distribution. All this limping around was becoming tiresome, and it wasn’t like their R&D team couldn’t whip something up. CATCAM, Sabolich, carbon fiber, you name it, they could do it.

He tapped his cane against Venom’s door one, twice, his greeting unique. Pale, fluorescent light flooded into the hallway and Kaz hobbled over the threshold.

Not that there wasn’t some usefulness in his state. He had devised – out of force – techniques and routines for all kinds of combat situations for injured soldiers. The importance of being to reload your weapon one-handed, without your dominant hand was drilled into recruits. Using different parts of their bodies for support instead of becoming paralyzed in the field, being able to balance themselves on either foot. He saw the distrust in some of the new recruits’ eyes as he – an invalid – appeared as their trainer and enjoyed it immensely when that suspicion turned into quiet respect. Naturally there were those unfortunate enough to question his competency out loud. They were allowed to mend their bruises in the brig for a week before a fresh start.

Venom’s room wasn’t as utilitarian as one might expect. There were photos and posters on the wall, a heap of tapes on the nightstand and a liquor cabinet leaning against a wall. These late-night meetings weren’t unusual; a chance to talk over recent happenings in a more informal state. Kaz didn’t wear the jacket to his uniform in these meet ups, neither his beret. It was as off-duty as you could get in a military base. And whenever Venom wasn’t scheduled for missions, he preferred the simplicity and lightness of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

They chatted about business for a while, each nursing their drink. Alcohol wasn’t necessary but it helped to set the mood, relax a little. The distilled _kalou_ in Kaz’s glass had an aftertaste of coconut, a local product available in large quantities as part of the diplomatic relationship with the Seychelles socialist party.

Kaz and Venom didn’t always see eye to eye, but he supported his commanding officer fully. That was all according to plan. But on a more personal level, he felt something… It wasn’t pity, but close. He was sorry for Venom, sympathized with him, felt a sort of compassion towards him. At one point, he had joked that they were like a pair of ditched wives, both being screwed over by the same man. Though that wasn’t the truth, it made for a compelling allegory. They were the same.

“Do you ever get lonely?” Kazuhira asked after their conversation had petered out, as usual. After shop talk came that awkward silence which led to either the meeting to end or the subjects moving on to more personal ones. It felt like peer support, a replacement for therapy.

Venom set his empty glass on the floor and leaned back on his seat on the bed, Kazuhira sitting on the only chair in the room. He seemed to weigh his words carefully, like he always did, before replying.

“I am.” His blue eye stared directly at Kaz, expression guarded.

Kazuhira scoffed. “You have the respect and adoration of every soul on this base and you feel lonely? Doesn’t bode well for the rest of us mortals here,” he chuckled, upending his glass to get the last dregs of the now warmed palm wine.

“Every soul?” Venom repeated. There was an odd tension in posture now.

“I swear it.”

Venom hummed non-committedly after a beat of silence. His part of the conversation was always slower, more time used thinking about what to say, refining those thoughts into frugal words. “Do you? Get lonely, I mean.”

Kazuhira rubbed his eyes behind his sunglasses. “I do. Of course there are members whom I’m more acquainted with, but there’s always that professional distance to be kept, you know? Keeping people at arm’s length.”

 “Not like in MSF, huh?” Venom asked, a smile accentuating the lines around his mouth.

Kaz mock-hit him with his cane. “I was a different man back then,” he retorted with a laugh. “Young, naïve, idealistic and full of myself.” His expression softened at the memory of MSF days. Time had given those memories a golden shimmer, shadowing out the days of constant struggle for daily necessities, money, men, arms, supplies, everything. “Besides, the way I am now isn’t exactly attractive,” he continued with bitterness, gesturing to his broken body. Sometimes, in the dark of night when the pains and aches kept him awake, he asked himself why he still kept going on, persisting where others would have given up. How far could anger and hate take him? In those dark moments, the brilliance of the past blinded him to see anything but a bleak present. But dawn came after every night, regardless of whether he found an answer, the world outside his head rolling on.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Venom said, interrupting Kazuhira’s morbid thoughts. “I’m sure a lot of people on this base would take up if you offered.” There was no scorn or ridicule in Venom’s voice, just honest sentiment. His gaze was level, the one blue eye looking directly at Kaz.

“I honestly doubt that. And I see Sn—, see the point with the whole authority issue.” The name was about to slip again. They had a sort of mutual understanding that John’s name wouldn’t be uttered, not letting him have that power over them, not here where codenames didn’t matter.

“Did you have a relationship with him?” Venom asked after a long moment of silence. It sounded like Venom had waited a long time to ask that.

_You’re Big Boss._ “You should know,” Kaz replied.

“The briefing was vague on that point,” Venom shrugged. How he had accepted his fate, his role, that he could so easily call his brainwashing a briefing. A mission given to him to accept, a job. Except that it was forced on him and the mission was for life. Maybe Venom found compliance the best way to survive and deal with the situation.

Kazuhira sighed. “No, I did not.”

“Would you have wanted to?”

Kazuhira tipped his chin up to stare at the ceiling. “Yes,” he rasped. _He was my everything. I felt like I could take on the world with him at my side, with his attention turned towards me._ Kaz had to remind himself of the parts the golden shimmer obscured.

“I see.”

The air conditioning stopped humming. Footsteps approached and passed in the hallway just outside.

“You should think about what I said,” Venom said, getting up. It was the signal for Kazuhira to leave. The meeting was adjourned. “Might do some good for you,” he added with a lopsided smile.

Metal legs scraped the floor as Kazuhira stood up. “Hah, you’re telling _me_. Thanks for the drinks.” He saw himself out with a nod. Out on the platform, the endless smell of brine, the sound of the ocean, the elements of home. A few soldiers were standing on the lower deck, chatting amongst themselves. When they spotted Kaz, they immediately saluted and parted ways.

Fraternize. Right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Without friends no one would choose to live, even if he had all other goods." - Aristoteles, Nicomachean Ethics

A new Forward Operating Base had been constructed northwest of Mother Base and Kazuhira was on his way to inspect it. It provided faster dispatch times to countries like the Somali Republic, Kenya and the PDR of Ethiopia, all countries with strife and turmoil, coups and terrors creating plenty of business for Diamond Dogs and other PFs. The chopper slowed its speed, circling once around the base. Through the helicopter window, everything seemed in gear. Some scaffolding still remained, the finishing touches undone. But the Diamond Dogs emblems were painted on the walls, a flag hoisted on the topmost floor, clearly signaling to whom the base belonged. Guards patrolled the perimeter, knowing that their Boss could test their security strength at any time. If Venom could sneak up and virtually take control of the base, why couldn’t an enemy force?

Venom had succeeded in planting the seed of a thought into the back of Kazuhira’s mind.

“Take her down on base level,” Kazuhira said to the pilot, changing their landing spot from the top of the platform. The pilot raised his thumb in compliance and radioed the control tower. Staff scurried away from the control tower helipad and others appeared on the lower level. Usually his inspections didn’t mean actually touring the facility but with that thought in his head, Kazuhira figured he might as well try to gain some form of acquaintance with the personnel.

Three soldiers snapped into salute as the chopper touched down. A staff member hurried to help Kazuhira down from the helicopter, but he swatted the helping hand away, dropping down awkwardly on his cane. The rotors of the chopper slowed down, eventually halting.

“Welcome, Commander Miller!”

Kazuhira tried to read the soldiers and staff greeting him. Respect? Indifference? Pity? He couldn’t tell.

“At ease. I’m just here to make sure you’ve got this place up and running,” he said. He could really feel that professional distance now. How did one cross it anyhow? If he just sat down and started chatting someone up, how would he know they weren’t listening to him just because he was their commanding officer?

“Wild Husky, Senior Analyst. I’ll be your liaison here for now. Here’s the checklist, sir. There are a few things still unfinished, but we expect them to be done by next week.”

A staff member walked alongside him, presenting him with a clipboard. Pages of to-do lists fluttered in the sea breeze, near every box ticked. Kazuhira looked up at the staff member, a woman in her thirties with tan skin, cropped auburn hair, hazel eyes and a nice figure. “What’s your name?”

“Wild Husky, Senior Analyst, sir,” she repeated carefully. She took the lead going up the stairs to the next floor, adjusting her pace to Kazuhira’s. He was seriously considering that better prosthetic now, as always when climbing or descending the endless stairways on the base. He also had a good view of her backside now and the way it swayed with each step.

“I meant your real name,” Kazuhira corrected. Maybe, just maybe he would try this fraternizing thing after all. At least to see whether he still had the skills, he thought.

“Oh, it’s Carinne,” the woman smiled, relaxing. Her teeth were bright white against the colour of her skin.

“You a local then?” Kazuhira inquired.

“Yup, born and raised on Ile au Cerf,” Carinne replied.

They settled into something like a friendly chat, with Carinne telling about how she liked mechanics and planes since a little girl, airplanes flying over her island often on their way to the main island of Seychelles. Eventually when Diamond Dogs were recruiting on the island, Carinne jumped at her chance to get away from her small island and her family who pushed her to more feminine things, marriage, children. They made their way to the control tower, Kazuhira cutting off the chat every now and then to ask something about what he saw on the base. The staff had followed orders to the tee and there was nothing tangible to complain. That didn’t mean Kazuhira wouldn’t criticize as there was always room for improvement, always a chance to be a little closer to perfection.

He received a full report of the base construction and operations in the main control room, listening carefully and questioning intently to make sure the staff had a thorough understanding of their base and how to keep it functioning. Things they should expect and to take preventive measures against. Although most of the staff was from Mother Base, the details were always a little different base to base.

“We will forward any requests in these regions,” Kaz explained, gesturing towards a map on the desk, “to this FOB. Anyone not speaking the languages should start learning some basics.” A chorus of yessirs ended the official part of the inspection, men and women returning to their duties. Kaz contacted Mother Base by radio, confirming that everything was running as smoothly as it could for a new FOB. He was, in turn, informed that Venom had just returned from a successful mission. All these positive events boosted even Kaz’s mood.

“Will you be dining in, Commander Miller?” Carinne asked.

“Your mess hall was below decks, right?” It was a long trek and a hell of a lot of stairs to trudge down. He’d rather just catch the chopper from outside the control room and head back to Mother Base. Carinne seemed to understand his meaning and glanced at his crutch.

“Oh, that’s right. Hmm. I could ask the boys to bring something up to my quarters and we can dine there?”

Invitations didn’t get more clear as that. “All right,” Kaz nodded, somewhat warily. He’d go and see what this would lead to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi at statisticsfag.tumblr.com~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For anger seems to listen somewhat to reason, but to listen imperfectly;  
> as hasty servants, who before they have heard the whole message, run away, and then misunderstand the order;  
> and dogs, before they have considered whether it is a friend, if they only hear a noise, bark:  
> thus anger, from a natural warmth and quickness, having listened, but not understood the order, rushes to vengeance."  
> \- Aristoteles, Nicomachean Ethics

It was a disaster.

Yes, they talked over dinner in Carinne’s quarters. Yes, there was obvious flirting from both parties and when Carinne had asked whether Kazuhira needed to leave right away, he had replied vaguely that he had a moment to spare. He felt confident and good about the encounter until they had shuffled to the bed, when his physical limitations became painfully obvious. Maneuvering around took a considerable amount of time and effort of rearranging limbs into new positions. He lost his jacket and loosened his tie but kept his shirt buttoned, shoes and socks on. Even if his skills in dressing himself had improved, it was still a hassle he didn’t want this analyst to witness.

And there was another reason; his self-consciousness of his body. Kazuhira knew full well that he didn’t have that body of an Adonis anymore, a layer of fat covering his torso and keeping his shirt on eased that smear of his self-consciousness. Carinne had pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to stroke him to hardness, give him a few licks with her tongue.

He should have been mentally more prepared, he berated himself as the helicopter ascended on its way back home towards Mother Base. Of course he understood full well his restrictions but he hadn’t thought deeply enough about them regarding sex. Hadn’t thought about sex in general for a long time. He couldn’t lean on his forearms for lack of the other, couldn’t stay up on his knees for long as he couldn’t put a lot of pressure on his left leg. He couldn’t caress her with both hands, his helplessness apparent on his face. She told him to lie down and straddled him, doing most of the mechanical work. Which wasn’t bad, not at all, and if he had been in a better mindset, he would have enjoyed it even more, taking more pleasure in seeing her soft breasts bounce in rhythm with her movements and her thighs flexing. But Kazuhira was too far inside his own head to truly relish the feeling of being inside a woman again, his insecurities and doubts clouding his senses. And to top it all, Carinne had started moaning his _title_ as she neared her peak, apparently fucking a fantasy instead of a man.

In a purely physical sense, it had felt nice. Pleasant, even. But mentally, emotionally… His good mood turned sour. He had to rely on Carinne’s discretion about this, too. It was a mistake. He never should have tried to- Shouldn’t have listened to Venom-

“Damnit!” Kazuhira banged his fist against the metal wall of the chopper.

“Everything alright, Commander?” the pilot asked, glancing a look.

“It’s fine. Take us home.”

* * *

 

 

Venom was waiting for them, pacing along the helipad. Kazuhira certainly didn’t expect seeing the black-clad figure on deck, shielding his eye from the sun with his hand. There had been no contact from Mother Base regarding any anomalies or alerts. Not even a cryptic message from Ocelot. Venom walked over before the chopper touched down, opening the side hatch with both hands. His hair and armor were wet, only the tips of his coarse hair starting to dry off. Kaz allowed the man to help him down from the helicopter, the only person allowed – welcomed - to do so. His wet clothes left a stain on Kazuhira’s coat where Kaz leaned his weight on him, but Kaz didn’t mind. It would dry soon.

“Boss?” he asked loudly to be heard over the roar of engines, confused as they walked away from the ascending vehicle.

“Did something happen?” Venom asked, worried, reducing his volume to normal levels. “You were scheduled to be back an hour ago.”

Had Venom been waiting after returning from his mission? It was true, Kazuhira hadn’t radioed in that he would be late, figuring that it wasn’t critical. As far as Control at Mother Base knew, his dinner just stretched into overtime. Still, it wasn’t like him to be late.

“Everything’s okay. I was… fraternizing,” Kazuhira explained coolly, his seemingly perpetual frown settling back on his features.

Relief washed over Venom’s marred face. “How did it go?”

Kaz opened his mouth to explain but it clicked shut as he spotted a soldier nearing them. “I’m going to need a drink tonight. Your room?” Kaz asked, resigned. There was still work to do and now he was behind on his schedule.

“Fine,” Venom nodded.

With that, Kazuhira shoved the incident to the back of his head and tried to focus on work. He needed to approve of the list of supplies the new FOB requested and compile next week’s patrol duties and a thousand other items he could and should delegate to someone else. Sure, his job was to manage the day-to-day activities in the organization but that didn’t mean he was expected to undertake some of the more trivial matters of admin work. He had people for that. Frankly, he enjoyed the control he had over Diamond Dogs through the grassroots paperwork. He could see the organization through the lens of numbers, rotations and lists, sometimes even better than by interacting with the soldiers.

Twilight had turned into night a long time ago when Kaz finally set down his papers with a groan. While a blocky, expensive computer sat on his desk, he preferred to do some things in good, old-fashioned paper and pencil. It was good exercise for his fine motor skills, too. And the flicker of the screen wasn’t good for his sensitive eyes, it made him blink a lot. Kaz rolled his shoulders and turned his neck from side to side, feeling more than hearing the crunching noises his protesting muscles made. Satisfied with the amount of work he had finished, he reached for his cane to begin his trudge to Venom’s room. He wondered whether the other man would be there or be awake. He had come back from a mission earlier today so he could be resting. Even so, Kaz walked on.

“Come in,” came the groaned response from the room to the tap-tap of Kazuhira’s cane against the door. He flashed his keycard through the scanner, taking his time in getting over the threshold. Sliding the door shut, Kazuhira spotted Venom in the doorway to the bathroom, shirtless of course, gripping the doorframe above. His back was arched, muscles in his side lengthening and flexing. Even with all the training and the physical side of his work, Venom’s skin was starting to show his age, appearing leatherier in sun-exposed areas than Kaz remembered. They weren’t exactly spring chickens anymore, neither of them.

“Injury or kink?” Kaz asked, masking his worry under a light-hearted tone.

“Kink,” Venom ground out. “Damn sentry was this close and wouldn’t budge.”

Kaz could imagine it, Venom pressed awkwardly against some rock or tree, holding the same position in fear or being detected, even the slightest movement causing a disturbance. He would have offered to help but what could he do that the trained physiotherapy staff couldn’t? Although it was possible that Venom had skipped asking them for help as well.

“What did the guys in med team say?” Kaz asked, inviting himself over to the liqueur cabinet.

“If it’s not gone by morning, I’ll pay them a visit,” Venom answered, evasive. With a final rub to his side, he grabbed a clean t-shirt to pull over his head.

Kaz poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a glass probably not meant for it. “Did you hear about the Soviet’s nuclear test?” he asked nonchalantly, taking a sip. “In Kazakhstan. There’s anger boiling among the locals. Heh, maybe we should consider relocating to Central Asia? There are a lot of business opportunities there.”

“Kaz,” Venom reprimanded. “You didn’t come here to talk shop.” He picked up a bottle of water, seating himself on the bed as usual.

“Are you leaving me to drink alone?” Kaz scoffed but sat down anyways, glass in hand, taking another sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly in the back of his throat, warm on its way down.

“So, how did it go?” Venom prompted, ignoring the remark.

“Absolutely fantastic,” Kaz snorted. “I met a lovely analyst who wanted to ride her superior officer’s dick in hopes of a promotion,” he recounted with fake glee. It had been a mistake.

“Some could say you still have the moves then. That’s pretty impressive,” Venom tried. There was something simmering beneath his words, something Kaz didn’t care to ponder over.

“Moves? Don’t be ridiculous,” Kaz spat, angry at himself. “All I could do was lie there and _take it_.”

There was a surprised sound. Venom choked on his water, sputtering droplets that ran down his chin and wet his beard.

“Vee?” Kaz asked, curious now.

“’mfine,” Venom rasped, coughing up the liquid, face red and gaze decisively not on Kazuhira.

Kaz ran over what he had said again and realized the sort of imagery that could have flashed through Venom’s mind.

“Vee?” he asked again. “Did you just--?” What was he even asking? _Did you just imagine me getting fucked? Was that what you meant by ‘fraternizing’?_ Wasn’t Kaz just being conceited, vain for even thinking like that? After all, why would Venom even harbor thoughts like that about him? But something in his expression just now said _guilty_.

Kaz ruminated on this thought for a moment, watching with a strange curiosity as Venom regained his composure, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brain caught on a thought and he opened his damn mouth before even finishing that thought.

“Vee,” he rasped. “Did you mean yourself?”

Venom blinked, eyebrows furrowing.

“When you said I should fraternize. Did you mean, with you?” Kaz clarified, words just spilling out of his mouth without a second thought. Sure, he loved the sound of his own voice but there was something so absurd about the entire situation that he couldn’t stop. Something was tugging inside of him, like a needle poking at his skin, not quite hard enough to draw blood.  

“Kaz, I have no right to-“

And that just blew the lid off.

“No right? No right to what?” Kaz demanded, voice rising in anger. His hand clenched around the glass. “You’re the commander, you’re fucking _Big Boss_ , you have every right!” He stood up, dropping the glass on the floor, his fury flourishing with how awkward his movements were. He didn’t even know where his anger was directed at now. At himself, at Venom for being so sensitive where he should be uncaring, at the world for just existing. He didn’t care.

“You could just fucking order me, or Ocelot, or any of the damned people on this base to their knees and they’d drop trou, instead of this, this--” he seethed, gesturing with his hand. He reached for his cane, planting it to the floor with a loud clank.  

“If you want something, you should just take it! That’s what _Snake_ would do!” he bellowed. “If he had wanted me, he would have—“

Venom watched silently as Kaz stood there, leaning on his good leg, mouth working but no words following, his tirade suffering a sudden death.

Oh god, Kaz thought. Why did everything circle back to _him_? Kaz had given him fourteen years – a third of his damned life, had suffered lost limbs and health for the asshole, all the while waiting for recognition. Waiting, hoping against hope that one day his feelings – whatever they were – would be reciprocated. Even in the tiniest amount. He just wanted Snake to see him. Like a pitiful dog waiting for his master to praise him, to pet him. And now, with Venom, with _his_ face, _his_ copy, even suggesting the possibility of wanting him just made him so, so mad. He was being vain and he knew it and he hated it and he hated and hated and hated.

“Kaz.” The voice was quiet, soft even. Not like Big Boss.

“I need to go,” Kaz muttered, storming out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The most beautiful harmony arises from things different." - Heraclitus

Hot water ran down Kazuhira’s back, pattering against the slippery tile. He leaned a little backwards on his stool to let the spray hit his shoulders. The wooden stool reminded him of bath houses when he was just a kid in Japan. It seemed like the world had changed so much after that, and yet not changed that much at all. Fads and trends emerged and petered out only to resurface again. Clothes, music, films, hairstyles… Advances in technology that made the world seem smaller. But behind tennis courts and exercise VHSs were the same people; politicians, corporate leaders, journalists, scientists, militaries and armies, spinning the wheels and dividing the world into “us” and “them”.

Sometimes all Kaz needed was a long, hot shower to clear his brain, reset his frame of mind. Steam would fill the small bathroom before long, helping him to physically relax. He knew his back was turning red as the water was just a little too hot. Eventually his mind would settle, uneasiness washed off his skin and sinking into the drain. True, it wasn’t economical to spend such quantities of hot, fresh water in the middle of the ocean but it was a rare luxury Kaz allowed himself. He could have worse vices than a lengthy shower.

He would need to apologize for overreacting. The further away he drifted from that scene, the more ridiculous his actions just now seemed. At least he felt that he should apologize, though Venom would most likely respond with compassion anyways. Sometimes it made his skin itch and his heart beat out with a thud. He let his chin drop to his chest, closing his eyes against the rivulets of water running down from his hair.

For a moment, he let his mind wander. What if one day he would fall into bed with Venom? Kaz imagined him to be a frustratingly gentle lover. Selfless and someone who would take good care of Kaz. Treat him like something precious and fragile. Kaz would ask – no, order – him to be rougher, and he’d comply. He’d be bossy because Venom would let him, would do anything he asked. His wandering mind came to an abrupt stop at the memory of his earlier encounter with Carinne. Something about the whole experience made him feel less of a man, in a figurative sense. He already knew he was less of a man in the physical sense. And that bothered him. Was it something that would persist in the future? Before, sex had given him that extra pep in his pace, heighten his self-confidence and make the environment around him shine a little brighter. Now it was different.

Kazuhira hadn’t noticed how long he had been sitting in the shower until he felt pressure in his chest, head a little dizzy. He turned off the faucet and reached around the opaque cubicle wall for his fake leg and a relatively dry towel and bandages, drying his leg carefully before beginning to wrap it. He held the bandage awkwardly in place with his other leg, tucking the end in instead of tying it into a knot. The scars on the end of his limb should have been one clean line, edged with suture marks, clean and precise. Sadly, that was not the level of meticulousness granted to him with a blunt machete. He fitted the cup of the leg around his stump, applying more bandages around the seam. It felt a little more instinctive now, like putting on socks and shoes, but still grotesque to look at.

Kaz tossed the towel across his shoulders and made his way out of the small room, lungs expanding to breathe in fresh, cool air. With a calm mind, falling droplets staining the floor, he walked over to his radio and curtly ordered a better prosthetic. The enthusiastic yessir almost made him cringe. He was going to let go and move on.

 

* * *

 

 

He was late barely a minute, descending the last flight of stairs to the helicopter deck when Pequod took off, carrying Venom Snake within to another mission. Kazuhira had wanted to apologize before Snake’s departure but hesitated until the last minute. It was a routine mission and intel reported that there would be no high risks, but Kaz was still always a little worried. Sometimes he felt that Venom was being overconfident with his skills and would one day come back from a routine mission in a black bag. There was a reason his top officers told him to be careful.

Ocelot was on radio duty as usual, though Kaz kept his office radio tuned to Venom’s frequency. Both parties knew Kaz was often listening, sometimes commenting on their communication or answering questions. It made him feel… closer, somehow, to Venom, to the mission and the dangers therein.

Watching the Blackfoot disappear into the distance, Kaz looked back up towards the control deck he had climbed down from. Groaning, he decided to pay a visit to R&D instead for the measurements of his residual limb. He hailed a soldier to drive him over the long stretch of road to the platform. It would be almost eight hours before Venom would reach his destination so there was no sense in Kaz manning the radio just yet.

The drive was quiet, his driver not trying to strike any kind of small talk. Kazuhira reflected once again on Venom’s words and that professional distance.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” he asked as casually as he could, keeping his eyes trained ahead. Of course he knew the answer beforehand; he approved the weekly menus planned by the mess hall team. That was another thing that he could probably exempt from his duties. After all, all he needed to do was approve the standardized recipes and let the team mix and match as they best saw fit.

“Uhh, I believe it was rice pilaf, sir.”

“Damn, more onions…”

“Commander?”

“Onions are not really my thing,” Kaz answered with a slight grin. _Show your flaws. Make yourself human._

“Haha, is that so,” his driver muttered, clearly unprepared for a show of humanity like this.

All Kazuhira could do was sigh.

 

* * *

 

 

“—and this part here is called the umbrella,” the woman holding Kazuhira’s new temporary prosthetic explained. She was clearly enthusiastic about her team’s work, describing every little detail about the fake leg and its parts. The design was simple and functional, and Kaz could see the practicality of it even in this rudimentary prototype version. He’d hop around and learn to walk on this temporary one first and then get back to be tailored a permanent one based on the feedback from the training period.

“This model has a shoe built into it but we can make yours bare footed,” she told him, tapping the hard plastic shoe at the bottom of the leg. What was the use, Kaz thought bitterly. He wasn’t going to feel sand or grass under his foot whether the prosthetic had a shoe or not.

“I’ll think about it later,” he said, interrupting his thoughts. This was about moving on and griping about the things he’ll never have aren’t part of it. “Show me how to put it on.”

Kazuhira had changed into shorts for the fitting session and sat on a wide chair. The woman – Iron Rhino – kneeled on the floor before him. It made Kaz swallow; his legs bare and a pretty woman on her knees like that… What was wrong with him?

“Alright so you start with this,” Rhino instructed, rolling down what looked like a sock made of rubber, kind of like the gloves you would use for cleaning. Where in a sock would be the toe end, in this rubber liner was a soft cup where the end of Kaz’s knee would fit against.

“This is just cheap silicone for now, the tailored version will have better padding here,” Rhino kept explaining, placing the cup firmly against Kaz’s stump. “Now roll up the liner.”

Kazuhira did as instructed, using the span of his hand to smooth back the rolled up material. It felt more like neoprene under his hand, making a soft crinkling sound as he unwrinkled the liner up mid-thigh.

“Is it supposed to be this high up?”

“Yeah, it supports your weight better that way,” Rhino answered, unabashed by her familiar manner of speech.

On the outside end of the liner was a hexagonally shaped pin. Had Kaz stood up and walked with just the liner on, he’d be a real peg-leg. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw the hexagonal shape. Just like Mother Base, the strongest form there was. He moved his knee around a bit to feel the material around it. It didn’t shift against his skin, so it probably wouldn’t chafe either.

“Next up is the shell. Can you see the hole on the bottom of the tube?” Rhino held up the plastic casing that was shaped like a human leg below the knee. At least if you used a bit of imagination. It had the same false skin colour as plastic dolls, though hopefully not the same stench.

The mechanism was surprisingly simple. The pin at the end of the liner fit right into the hole at the bottom of the shell, connecting the limb and fake leg with remarkable support. Another staff member – a medic -  brought a sturdier walking aid for Kaz so that he could push himself up. Now there were two people hovering around him, ready to pounce if he faltered even a little. The prosthesis made several clicking noises as he put weight on it, but apparently that was to be expected. Just the pin clicking into place.

His first steps with the walker were a struggle to say the least. The prototype felt different around and under his leg, this one actually having some kind of action in the ankle. It felt more natural but still strange. Slowly he started putting more and more weight on the prosthetic, each time a little amazed at how it didn’t hurt as much as the one he had been using. The staff warned him that there would be some pains while he acclimatized to his new leg but eventually it shouldn’t hurt at all.

Kaz felt strangely self-conscious like this, staggering around the open room with subordinates scrutinizing his every move, off-hand commenting on how the axis had to be readjusted to prevent pigeon toes. It made him want to grind his teeth and not show any kind of weakness, to just bear the pain. But these people were specialists and even without their commander telling them in words, they could read the pain and discomfort from his motions, urging him to take short breaks between his walks.

It got easier and easier with practice, and within the hour Kaz could walk (albeit unsteadily) without touching his walking aid to the ground at all. He was _walking_. His leg muscles were strained but the sheer elation of taking several steps without a cane was like a rush of adrenaline. Why had he not done this sooner?

Rhino helped him take the leg off, explaining more about what would be different in the final version. The medic came over to examine Kaz’s residual limb and whether there were deeper pressure marks on some parts of the stump. All this would be taken into consideration for the tailored one. Kaz stretched his legs while the team made some adjustments to the fake leg. He looked at the one he had been using so far, a crude variant of the one he was getting. He’d never use it again, and it would be another step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa hey am I seeing a plot in here? where'd it come from?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For as, neither one swallow, nor one day, makes a spring, so neither does one day, nor a short time, make a man blessed and happy."

The day had passed without major incidents. Kaz had sat at his desk pouring over reports from all struts on the base. Maintenance (a small leak of LNG, now sealed, two staff members sent to med bay for breathing in fumes), logistics (a few empty cardboard boxes had gone missing, culprit suspected but no further action to be taken), staff management (five senior officers requesting shore leave for the same weekend, most likely a party) and so on. He couldn’t help wiggling around his new leg every now and then, testing the range of the ankle, getting used to the cushioning absorbing energy.

He kept his radio on, listening half-heartedly to Venom’s progress through his mission in Paktia. Reports from Afghanistan indicated less and less Soviet presence, most likely due to the immense pressure from the outside world. There were even talks of an exit in the coming years, that the Soviets fighting power was slowly shifting to the local armed forces.

 _“I have visual on the facility. Looks like storage, just like intel said.”_ Venom’s low voice crackled on the radio, carried across two thousand miles.

_“Good work, Boss.”_

Kazuhira glanced at the clock. 23:30, meaning half an hour more in Paktia. It was dark now and the guards would start to tire on their graveyard shift, giving Venom better chances to slip in unnoticed.

He finished signing the reports and made his way straight to his quarters. He got plenty of mileage for his leg when it came to stairs. As long as he placed his prosthetic foot flat on the stair, he could walk up step over step instead of step by step like he had done so far. Down was still a problem, something he’d have to talk about with the engineers.

As soon as he had flicked on the lights, he tuned the fixed radio in his room for Venom’s frequency. Ocelot was going over some details with him in hushed tones even if the audio phase was reversed on Venom’s end. All was going according to plan, it seemed.

After undressing himself down to his slacks and olive green dress shirt, forfeiting coats, tie, hat, glasses, weapon holster, Kaz slumped on his bed. He stared idly at the amount of layers shed, the protective armour he wore during the day. It wasn’t combat armour to shield against gunfire but a costume armour of his role on Mother Base. He ran his hand over his face, rubbing against the stubble on his cheek. Sometimes, wearing the armour was tiring, a weight much heavier than it looked.

His thoughts drifted off, skittering across subjects, occasionally dipping into static like that on the radio. His mind reminded him of the unprofessional thoughts that had slipped through his brain during the fitting. He remembered the way the top of her uniform was pulled open, her tank top baring her décolleté. From his high angle, he could see the charming curves of her breasts. All she had to do was lean in a little closer, hand accidentally brushing too high on his thigh…

Kaz’s hand slid down his body, gently feeling the outline of his cock. It appeared that even a poor experience was enough to remind his body what he wanted more often, needed even. His pale eyes weren’t focused as he replayed a different version of what happened. She’d be coy, tease him, slip her large, calloused hand – huh? – up the leg of his shorts instead of pulling them off first. Kaz felt himself harden under his palm, content to just rub through his slacks for now.

She’d lean in even closer, mouthing his cock through the thin fabric, tracing the shape with her lips. She’d keep looking up at him with that single, blue eye and – hm? Eventually she’d let him out of his misery, reaching up to pull his shorts and underwear down in one fluid motion. He’d lift his hips easily, letting her tug the garments down. Kaz weaved his fingers into his leather belt, manipulating the buckle open, his eyes falling closed now.

The person in his fantasy would press their – her – nose against that delicate spot where his ballsack met the root of his cock and inhale deeply, exhaling warm air through the mouth. She’d lick a long strip all the way to the glans, handling him just with her mouth. With a cheeky glance, she’d dip her head just enough forward to capture the head in that warm, wet mouth followed by a soft, almost reverent grunt.

No, that was Venom on the radio, probably climbing some fence or rock face. Kaz tensed for a moment, stiff cock in hand, making sure in his head that he had turned his side of the transmission off, that no one on the frequency could hear him.

He stopped forcing a female aspect in his fantasy, allowing his mind to conjure up other kinds of images. He had had his fair share of sexual escapades with other men in his younger days, experiences he had no will to forget. So far, the best fuck of his life had been with a man. He shuddered at just the memory of it, even if it was lined with foolhardiness.

He had picked up a thin, scraggy Latino guy in a men’s bath house in Barranquilla. It was after the first time Snake had had the gall to interfere with his private life, only a few months after Snake had humiliated and all but blackmailed Kaz to join MSF, and already he thought he could boss Kazuhira around. So he drove off into the night, looking for an easy lay just in spite. If Snake didn’t want him chasing women, fine. He’d chase guys then.

The man he had approached didn’t appear special in any way, simply hanging along the sides of the larger room in his towel. In these kinds of places, he could have been an office clerk or a drug lord or anything in between. When he had produced a small vial of a new party drug in one of the private rooms, Kaz knew he was in for a ride. At the time he was being reckless, balancing hard work with equally hard play. He could still remember the consequences of the night; aches and pains in places he didn’t think he had, the worst kind of hangover and red sores around his nostrils as a result of inhaling too much of the stuff too fast. The first hit of amyl nitrite did nothing else but make him sneeze. The man had laughed at him, showing him how to do it. Inhale, hold, exhale, repeat.

The second hit brought a flush to his face and lightness in his head. He felt a rush of euphoria creeping up his body. The stuff was nice, relaxing his muscles and making him want to fuck. His partner kept suggesting between jacking and sucking each other off when to take another hit, the effects fairly short-term. Inhale, hold, exhale. After his third – or was it fourth? – hit, the influence of the vapour overwhelmed Kaz. He had never felt so blissful and awful at the same time, his foremost thought being that he craved a fuck, or to be fucked as the man appeared to want, or else he’d die.

Kaz, in his quarters, was pumping his hand fast now, slicked by spit and pre-cum, reliving the memory of that night. He recounted having come four times in the span of ten minutes, his entire existence narrowing down to the sounds and sensations in the tiny room, the smell of chemicals and vinyl and sweat and cum mixing together into a heady perfume. He had been considerably vocal but wasn’t certain in what language, though words were unneeded for the man to keep driving into him as he held on to Kaz’s ankles.

He was leaking a great deal now and used the palm of his hand to rub that slick around the head, jerking himself off with vigour. He felt a pressure starting to build deep within him, mouth going slack and eyes losing focus.

_“I’m almost there.”_

Even through the radio, Venom’s raspy voice shot right through him, urging Kaz across the point of no return. Now the man driving into him had a face, Vee’s face, and a muscled body with scars all over and the other hand grabbing his ankles was made of metal instead of flesh. It felt so good and so right and his skin was tingling with electricity as his body clenched and contracted, tearing the orgasm from his body. He came all over his shirt, thick spurts of white dotting his chest.

His mind was hazy still for a while, allowing him to just lay back and breathe for a moment, pleasure washing over him. He didn’t want to think about what had gone on in his imagination just now, of implications or possibilities or hell, even reasons. Right now he could stop thinking for a while and just exist. As he came down from his high, fatigue set in, making his limbs heavy and he began to notice the stickiness on him. Time for a shower, then.

_“Something’s wrong.”_

Kaz only half-registered the message on the radio, heaving himself up from atop the crumpled sheets.

_“Boss, there’s an emergency intel report—“_

The sound of gunfire snapped Kaz right out of his stupor. He hurried to the transmitter, tapping on the switch.

“What’s—“

_“Boss, several Soviet and DRA units closing in—“_

“Ocelot, what’s going on?!”

Shouting and more gunfire. The forewarning whizz of a missile swooping by before loudly exploding somewhere near. Sounds of treads, heavy machinery moving along the rocky terrain. Kaz cursed aloud, instantly starting to redress himself, he had to get out there, to help him, to--

 _“Boss, get out of there!”_ Ocelot paid Kaz’s demands no heed, focusing on getting the order to Venom. How the hell had intel not picked up on the armed forces earlier?

“Snake, can you get to the nearest LZ?”

_“Miller, the facility is inside a god damned mountain!”_

“I don’t care if it’s at the bottom of the ocean! I’m sending a support unit out right now.”

Kaz had to switch frequencies for ten long seconds to bark his orders to the support team on standby. Sure, it would take them eight hours to reach the area, but if only Venom could hold out that long, hide somewhere if he couldn’t slip through the attack into a place where Pequod could pick him up. It might all be over long before the team arrived, but better to send them out now and then recall them instead of regretting it later.

_“-a howitzer and two tanks- ghah!”_

_“Boss? Come in.”_

“Snake?”

For the longest time, there were only broken, distorted sounds filtering through the static with no way to tell what caused them. Kaz was mostly dressed by now, buttoning the third button on his trench coat to hide the stains on his shirt that were visible over his uniform jacket. He grabbed the pocket-sized radio he had and tuned into the right frequency before bolting out the room. Yet all that came through was hissing and crackle, making Kaz’s heart sink right to the pit of his stomach. Venom would pull through, he knew it, but there was always the fear of what if. What the hell had intel been doing? He swore he’d untangle this mess before Venom was back home.

“Intel dome, now!”

Kaz’s bark startled the soldier nodding off by the railing of the stairs leading up, the young man snapping into a quick salute before jogging to the jeep nearby.

Kaz turned up the radio to full volume to hear something over the roar of the engine, holding it close to his ear, but the soundscape hadn’t changed from the crackling and whistling. Ocelot kept calling out to Venom, repeating the request to report in. 

He hated when this happened. It was like that final time with Quiet when Venom dropped off the radar long enough for Kaz to start reviewing the more desperate sort of contingency plans. They’d fight tooth and claw for Venom Snake, for their Big Boss.

_“—fix on pos—“_

_“—njured—“_

_“I rep—“_

Pequod’s message broke through the pop and hiss just as Kazuhira’s vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the intel dome. He could hear Ocelot’s voice booming through the area, accompanied by the slight jingle of his spurs.

“Do we have anyone on NAVSTAR?”

“Negative, sir, too much static interference.”

“Are they blocking communications?”

“What the hell is going on here?!” Kaz announced his arrival with a loud clang of his cane against the metal railing. Ocelot spun on his heels, ready to fight fire with fire when he noticed Kazuhira’s unkempt appearance. His demeanour softened just a fraction.

“Someone’s kept us intentionally in the dark about this attack.”

_“—ab and Pequod— hom—“_

“Pequod on NAVSTAR!” came the excited announcement from an analyst. “40 miles over the Pakistan border, southbound.”

Kaz flicked the switch on his radio.

“Pequod, this is Miller. If you can hear me, bring the Boss back home safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is taking longer than I expected... D: I'm going to run out of pretentious quotes! lol


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the tags.

Kaz feels like he could sit here forever, watching Venom’s bare chest expand and deflate with each passing breath. Fortunately, there hadn’t been need for a ventilator. Kaz watched the criss-cross of scars and marks creating a unique map on the other man’s upper body, some surgical with the tell-tale suture dots, others tears and cracks in the skin shallow enough to heal on its own. Venom was sleeping on his side with a special pillow between his knees to keep him from rolling on his back. Kaz had taken one look at the horrid burns sprawled over Venom’s back and decided he didn’t need another one. Now the burns were dressed properly with a honey-like scent emanating beneath the white bandages. Some of his hair had been singed off too, the explosion giving him an impromptu (and uneven) haircut.

Venom had some milder cuts and bruises as well, but the burns were the worst. He had been almost out of the cave system and beyond the brunt of the attacking forces when a HEAT round from the mujahideen’s T-55 had exploded too close. Once in Pequod’s chopper and away from immediate danger, he did his best to pour all the water he could find down his back to prevent pieces of his armour and clothing to stick into the burn wounds. Once the helicopter was cruising and the pilot could set it on autopilot, he helped Venom as much as he could with stopping the subcutaneous burning. The pain had subsided rather quickly which was worrisome and bespoke of serious injury. It was almost ironic how a superficial burn from a hot plate could hurt considerably more than a severe third-degree burn.

Now Venom was sleeping in the hospital on Mother Base, sedated. He’d be out of commission for at least ten days. While an injury like this could happen on any mission, Kaz felt partially responsible for it. The whole gap in Intel had been a wreck of technical failure, human error and misjudgement. The analysts responsible were scared shitless when Ocelot and Kazuhira took them in for a “preliminary hearing”.  They would be staying in the brig until Venom as their commanding officer could be present in a proper hearing and then dole out a suitable disciplinary action.

If only he had checked the encryption equipment personally, maybe he would have noticed the fault and the message from Khost would have turned up as the informant meant it to. If the analyst receiving the message hadn’t laughed it off instead of checking in with Ocelot. If the sleep-addled satellite personnel hadn’t miscounted the size of the entourage rolling southwest from Bori village. If, if, if. Ifs and buts didn’t change the past, instead they had to focus on how to further improve their systems to prevent this kind of gross mishap from occurring again.

Kaz didn’t even pretend to read the document on his clipboard. He’d self-regulated his visits to one hour a day. Even that might have been overdoing it. Venom’s life wasn’t in danger and the medical staff had been very thorough in removing every last bit of aramid fibre from the wounds to prevent infection. He’d rest up a few days and stay off duty for as long as the med team wanted. After all, only a fool disobeys his physician. But still, Kaz wanted to stay by him and watch over him and frankly just watch him. Seeing Venom dart around shirtless wasn’t exactly unusual but it was a rare thing to see him sleep like this, vulnerable and still. Except that right now he rustled on the sheets, murmuring.

“Kaz…?” Venom was drifting back into a state of wakefulness.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Venom smacked his dry lips.

“My mouth tastes like cat shit.”

“Sorry,” Kaz chuckled. “That must be a side effect of zopiclone. It’s new and supposed to be better than benzos as sedatives.”

“Huh.” Kaz doubted Venom had comprehended even half of what was just said.

Venom looked around groggily, bleary-eyed. “Where’s your cane?”

“It’s in my room. I don’t need it; I got a new leg.” Kaz stomped his foot in emphasis. He was trying to hide the grin on his face. He didn’t know he’d be so pleased with Venom’s attention.

“Moving on, huh? That’s good.”

A moment passed when both of them just looked at each other, smiling.

“You’re gorgeous Kaz, you know that?” Venom asked out of nowhere with a dopey grin. Apparently the sedatives lowered inhibitions as well, or maybe it was just fatigue. It wasn’t the kind of leer Snake sometimes had, but one of those ‘I worship the ground you walk on’ type of expressions.

“Right,” Kaz laughed, looking down at his clipboard again, definitely not feeling his face warming.

Venom reached for a glass of water, inadvertently stretching his back and hissed in pain.

“Here, let me.” Truth be told, it might have been easier to just call on a medic to help Venom. The complex act of balancing a glass on another person’s lips was more difficult than Kaz reckoned. Water dribbled down Venom’s chin, through his beard and onto the linens. Most of it ended up where it was intended to.

Returning the glass to the table, Kaz moved his hand back to wipe the excess water off Venom’s face. The man lying prone on the bed had a dazed sort of look in his eye. Taking hold of Venom’s chin, Kaz let his thumb slide across his mouth in a fond gesture. Venom’s lips fell open when Kaz repeated the gesture, slower this time. He could feel the inclination of the scar running through the right side of Venom’s mouth, felt the breath of hot air on the tip of his thumb.

He couldn’t say why he continued to do it, mapping out Venom’s lips ever so slowly with just a ghost of a touch. It was part impulse, part curiosity, part some strange pull. Caressing the rim of his upper lip caused Venom’s breathing to quicken, puffs of breath coming faster. Did he like it? And what was that look? Kaz was lost in the reverie of what it would feel like to kiss those lips until Venom leaned forward just enough to capture the thumb in his mouth.

Venom looked up at Kaz with one clear and one blue eye, sucking the digit deeper into his mouth. Kaz could only stare at him, stupefied, which Venom took as a go-ahead. He flattened his tongue against the underside, drawing it more into him until Kaz could feel his nail scraping the roof of Venom’s mouth. With a tilt of his head, Venom pulled back, his lips tightly sealed around the thumb. The juxtaposition was not lost on Kaz, his breath hitching as Venom let his lower lip unfurl slowly from the tip. He dove back one more time, swirling his tongue around it, massaging the pad of Kaz’s thumb, all the while sucking on it, making the tiniest of noises.

“Vee-,“

Just as Kazuhira was about to stop the scene they were making, Venom’s mouth went soft and lax around his thumb. He slouched back onto the thin pillow and fell asleep. Kaz glanced around them to make sure no one had been watching and all but jolted up from the chair, hoping no one would pay his red face any mind.

 

* * *

 

 

For the rest of Venom’s hospital stay, Kaz pointedly did not visit him. He didn’t want something like the last time to happen again as he had enough trouble to keep away the image of Venom looking up at him with desire in his eyes, cheeks hollowing to create suction. In his fantasies, it was so easy to replace his thumb with his dick and to imagine Venom bobbing his head eagerly, so keen on satisfying Kaz with his mouth.

Even after their boss was released from the hospital bed, he was forbidden to leave Mother Base on missions or doing anything taxing requiring his back. Which was almost everything. His back was still covered in thinner dressings, creating a lumpy surface on his white t-shirt, though they had to be changed only every other day now. They were no more than oversized bandages at this point. Venom was being pressed from all directions to rest and heal before heading out into the field again. Had he not been wearing any armour, he could have died in that explosion.

“Knock knock,” came Venom’s voice from the open doorway, accompanied by an actual knock. Kaz startled in his office chair, meaning to rest his eyes for just a second.

“Sleeping on the job?” Venom’s tone was light as he strode into the room, closing the door behind him.

Kazuhira blinked and cleared his throat. “I was just, uh, thinking about something.”

“Are you sure you’re not overworking? I came to see if I could be of use,” Venom offered, the bandages beneath his shirt deforming his shape.

“Did you finish that book I lent you?” Kaz asked in turn. He swivelled in his chair and stood up, walking to a bookshelf.

“Yeah. I think I’ve read it before. I knew all along he was going to burn the place down,” Venom answered ruefully, following Kaz’s every move with his gaze.

“Sorry to hear that. It is based on a true story though.” Kaz browsed through the bookshelf between rows of binders full of documents, maps and other business-related books to find some novels or other more entertaining volumes.

“It’s great to see you walking around like this. You seem more confident,” Venom said. He was right, the better prosthesis made Kazuhira stand up straighter and leave his trench coat behind.

Kaz sighed, letting his hand drop. There was no way around it. He wanted to resolve this restlessness between them and it seemed like Venom would be content in never resolving it, only hovering at the edges of the issue.

“Are we going to talk about what happened during your stay at the hospital?”

Venom just stood there, poised awkwardly between Kaz’s desk and the door, like a schoolboy getting scolded by his teacher.

“Were you… lucid?” Kaz asked, keeping his back turned.

“I was.”

Nothing else followed.

Kaz closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Whatever your play is, it’s working. I keep thinking about you in… unprofessional situations.” _About how your hand would feel on the small of my back, how your breath would feel against the nape of my neck. About how many scars you have and how old they are and how you got them._

He heard Venom stepping closer, felt his presence grow near.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

“Kaz, you should know—“

But Kazuhira was on him, turning around with a curse. He would demonstrate very clearly what he wanted, leaning in to close the distance between them. Venom’s words were muffled when Kaz’s lips covered his, his hand reaching up to tilt his head, not taking no for an answer. Venom’s bristly beard made Kaz’s skin itch, but it wasn’t all that unpleasant. He saw now, in hindsight, all those moments where Venom had leaned in just a bit too close, too intimate, but something had always kept him from closing the distance. Such as being surrounded by others. Now his resolve crumbled like a broken dam and his hands came to rest on Kaz’s waist, pushing him back against the bookshelf.

Kaz pulled back just a fraction to let their lips come apart with a wet sound, to give the other a chance to call it off. Remembering the hospital, Kaz ran the tip of his tongue along the outer rim of Venom’s lips, making the others breath hitch. So he did like it, Kaz thought and took advantage of the slightly open mouth so close to his, kissing him again, delving into Venom’s warm and wet mouth. He tasted like water and blood and strangely enough, onions. Venom didn’t resist it at all, responding more and more eagerly, exploring Kaz’s mouth and lips with gusto.

“I want you too, you know,” Kaz murmured almost inaudibly against Venom’s scarred lips, heart pounding its way out of his ribcage. The spines of the books behind him dug into Kaz’s back so he leaned in even closer to Vee, their bodies pressed together. His hand was on Venom’s face, his throat, fingers furtively stretching the collar of his white t-shirt.

Kazuhira couldn’t keep quiet and words tumbled out of his mouth.  “I can’t believe I haven’t—“

Venom silenced him with a searing kiss, breathing hard through his nose. And another one. The sounds of their make out session drowned under the rush of blood in Kaz’s body.

“Vee, I want you to, to lock the door and-“

More words slipped out. He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore, saying whatever the bouncing stream of his consciousness brought in the front of his mind. Venom’s hands were wandering across Kaz’s uniform clad body, his chest, his sides, his hips. His mouth moved on to Kaz’s neck, his earlobe.

“-and bend me over that desk and-“

At that, Venom immediately tensed up and stilled. It was like someone had hit pause on him. He pulled back, just an inch, hands sliding down off of Kaz’s body in defeat.

“Kaz,” he started. Kazuhira expected to be reprimanded, though he didn’t know what he had done wrong.

“I can’t give you what you want.” Venom’s eye was downcast and he slowly backed away, creating more distance between them.

“Wh-what?” Kaz asked, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? About us?” Kaz didn’t expect something like a deep and meaningful relationship here after all. He would be just fine in seeing how things would unfold on their own.

Kaz’s brows shot up when Venom began to undo the fly of his olive cargo pants. There was nothing seductive or erotic about his motions, the action fast-paced and efficient. Were his hands trembling, just a little? He pulled down his white underwear to reveal a crotch guard, the type of hard plastic cup that belonged with his armour. Underneath the cup was…

…nothing.

“I said, I can’t give you what you want.” Venom’s words were coloured with sorrow and anger.

Kaz blinked, gaping. To say that there was nothing between Venom’s thighs would have been incorrect. He had his testicles, both of them, but where his penis should have protruded out was just a slight bulge. A crescent-shaped surgical scar told Kaz it had been an accident, an injury. But the scar was white and faded, not fresh. A small hole – a stoma – sat at the top of the slight bulge.

Kaz felt a pang of pain in sympathy just looking at the mess of Venom’s groin. He had seen his fair share of difficult injuries but somehow the loss of such a sensitive organ made his gut twist. A thousand questions exploded into his head simultaneously, his stare flitting from Venom’s face to his crotch and back. How had it happened? Where had it happened? Wasn’t this some fairly critical medical information that Kaz as his XO should know about? Why wasn’t it in his files? On the other hand, why should it be?

“But… but how? And when? And how did I not know about this? Wha— I—“

Venom was deliberately not making eye contact. “I never shower with others.”

What?

“I have full confidence in those few still alive who have seen… this,” he said quietly, gesturing.

What?

“You were the last person I wanted to find out.”

What?

“It’s why I’ve held back.”

What?

“I’m not a… man anymore. Not someone who can satisfy you, or anyone else for that matter.”

Kazuhira couldn’t comprehend any of it. He had one of those funny feelings, like an out-of-body experience where he felt like he was watching the situation from outside with Venom’s words a faraway buzz.  The feeling passed and Kaz’s brain was back online.

“But everyone jokes about how huge your dick must be,” Kaz blurted out, the first and possibly most inappropriate thing on his mind.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Venom said with a sad sneer. “That was Ocelot’s idea of a rumour campaign.”

“Ocelot… knows?”

“He was at the hospital in Dhekelia.”

“So you lost it…” Kaz ventured.

“During MSF’s destruction.” Venom packed the cup inside his underwear again and pulled up his pants.

What was Kaz supposed to say? That he was sorry? Demand to know why this important piece of information wasn’t offered to him earlier? The silence in Kaz’s office was suffocating, waves of confusion emanating from him. He started to say something several times, but never got past the first syllable.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he finally said. “From a medical point of view, you’re still a man.” That was a fact.  

“From a medical point of view, I’m dead, Kaz. But this is the truth of it. I’ll find my way out,” Venom grunted out and left for the door, clearly hurt, the lines of his aging face taut, jaws clenched.

“Wait, Vee—“

Venom was saved by a knock on the door. The messenger jumped into a salute, not expecting the door to be opened so quickly. Venom let the messenger in and shuffled off, leaving Kaz to deal with the poor man with a binder just there to bring in some documents. Instead he got the distinct feeling he had just entered a war zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 10 400 words I'm finally at the phrase that prompted this whole fic: "I can't give you what you want." 
> 
> I know this fic is a hot pile of mess so note to self: next time I want to write a multichapter fic, PLAN IT FIRST.
> 
> (also sorry for the delay, I was out of country for a week :)


	7. Chapter 7

When he was a kid, the greatest deity of his town and his country was the sea. The vast ocean stretching all around the nation, keeping its borders safe. The sea gives and the sea takes, said the old men and women in Yokosuka. The sea gave them livelihood; food to eat and ships to travel on, to bring in goods and trade off some of their own. But in return, the sea took from them. Small trinkets dropped accidentally in the waves. People, bodies and soul, though sometimes the sea only required the soul and sent the waterlogged body back to shore. And sometimes the sea would take entire villages and towns, terrible tsunamis raking the land with endless amounts of water.

But after each disaster, the survivors would return to the little plots of land they called their own, look at the desolated area and say: the sea gives and the sea takes. And they would start building again, decide to build better, smarter, stronger, to build more barriers between them and the sea. In the end, man as just a tiny micro-organism was helpless compared to the world’s great superpower. The sea.

Kazuhira awoke suddenly with a terrible need for air. He sucked in air through his mouth like a man drowning, terrified that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen and the weight on his chest wasn’t easing up. Something was crushing him and he was going to die; not a beautiful, noble death like he yearned for, but the death of an old man taken away in his sleep.

It’s just a night terror, a reassuring voice in the back of his head tried to say. You’re not drowning, you’re getting air in your lungs, it tried to calm him, but the sensation of his lungs being compressed in a sunken ribcage took several more gulps of air before easing.

His pulse was quick and shallow; fragments of the nightmare he had lurking just beyond his field of vision. The more he thought about it, the less he remembered what his nightmare had shown him, but the feeling of cold and black and horrible lingered. He was covered in cold sweat, shivering and teeth chattering. He hated PTSD. Instead of counselling and therapy, men like Kazuhira Miller treated their traumas by surviving. Every day was a hurdle overcome, a fuck you to the aberrations clawing at their souls.

Kaz had tried to approach Venom in a private setting the night before. He had stood behind the door to his quarters, two glasses stacked in one pocket, a bottle of brandy in the other. He had knocked and waited. Knocked again and waited. No answer came. He had called out, but no one replied. He had considered contacting Venom on the iDroid, but that channel was for business. This was personal. Either Venom wasn’t in his quarters or he didn’t want to see Kaz. Either way, Kaz had respected his privacy and left.

Perhaps the nightmare had been about drowning. Figuratively, drowning in responsibilities, stress, worries. Or in a more literal sense, drowning like all those people on MSF’s base. It hadn’t been the sea demanding them that time, it was men sending them down into the cold, but the sea had taken them anyway. Accepted the offering of flesh and metal, picking through items and returning some afloat.

And they built again. What kind of fool would see the land shake and the ocean roil and decide that this was a good island to live on? Maybe the same kind of fool who threw a piece of metal on the sea and called it home.

Kaz wandered to the bathroom and took a leak. His leg was still on. He washed his hands and got back to bed. Did Vee have to sit down now? He felt a little ashamed for not taking the time earlier to read up on this kind of injury. And what it must do to Venom’s mental state. He didn’t seem troubled on the outside, but then again, all of them had their own skeletons in the closet.

Surely Venom had to realize that not having a dick didn’t mean you couldn’t satisfy someone else in bed. There were hands and mouths and all kinds of other options. Maybe he didn’t get aroused, Kaz thought briefly, but quickly dismissed that thought with a memory from the hospital. So maybe the issue was more of an emotional one. The feeling of not being a man, or masculine enough. But no one on base would accuse their Big Boss of being anything but the perfect example of a masculine man. The confidence, straight-forwardness, boldness, strength, physical fitness… Every argument Kaz could imagine Venom present was met with a counter-argument of his own.

The digital clock on his bedside read 05:01. He might as well get up now.

 

* * *

 

“This is exactly the reason why flight attendants in civilian planes take bomb jokes seriously.”

Kaz, Venom and Ocelot were sitting behind a table, the accused staff members standing in the open area in front of their judges. Several other soldiers lined the room, eager for gossip and to judge the judgement; whether their leaders would judge fairly or unjust.

“Your disregard for the seriousness of the situation could have cost Big Boss his life,” Kazuhira continues. He doesn’t need to sound angry for the accused to sweat at the temples. “Can you, or any one of you,” he gestures to the spectators, “deal with that? That someone tells you your CO is dying and you think it’s a joke?”

“Can you be there, at your leader’s funeral, knowing that you could have prevented it?” He paints a gruesome picture and he knows it. Ocelot, in his seat, crosses and uncrosses his legs, the spurs on his boots making a sound. It meant ‘that’s enough, Miller’ without having to undermine Kaz’s authority in front of the troops.

“N-no, sir,” comes a reply from the accused who wasn’t sure whether it was a rhetorical question.

“Is there any reason why the Boss should go easy on you?” Ocelot asks, leaning his elbows on the table. Their roles are pretty much set in stone now. Good cop and bad cop with the Boss having the final say.

The men have already given their explanations of what happened. This is a final moment for them to plead, but they all hold their tongues. They, and all those watching, know their mistake and do not fear the punishment.

“All right,” Ocelot concludes. All eyes turn to Big Boss, quietly sitting in the middle seat, arms crossed. Nobody questions whether he can judge fairly, whether he’s biased because his life was on the line. They all trust him explicitly.

“Thirty days of confinement,” Venom Snake rumbles. “Seventy-five percent pay cut for thirty days and reduction to the lowest grade.” A murmur goes through the crowd. The accused pull up into a salute. They won’t be making appeals.

Kaz jots down notes onto his clipboard. He contemplated whether it would be appropriate to give them new codenames as well.

“In a month’s time, you’ll start again as fresh recruits,” Ocelot said with a wave of his hand. 

“Yes, sir,” the soldiers replied in unison as others came to cuff them and lead them to their penalties.

The crowd trickles out of the improvised court hall. There’s dissent regarding Big Boss’s judgement, but that’s to be expected in a population of this size. The trio in charge hang back, waiting for the audience to disperse. Ocelot and Kaz stand up, one faster, one slower.

“Ocelot, I,” Kaz starts, shuffling the papers neatly into his clipboard. He wants to lift the proverbial cat on the table, to inform Ocelot here, in Venom’s presence, that he knows of his injury. Wants to force Venom to acknowledge the issue and make him talk about it with Ocelot as some kind of catalyst.

The syllables stick in his mouth when he sees the hurt in Venom’s expression, as if he knows what Kaz is about to say. Maybe he does, maybe he can read Kaz like an open book, at least now when there were so many questions bubbling just at the tip of his tongue.

“Yes?” Ocelot asks impatiently.

It’s not right, Kaz concludes. It’s not fair like this.

“Uh, never mind,” Kaz says hastily, glancing to their still seated CO. Tension seems to dissipate from Venom’s jawline.

Ocelot gives the pair a strange, assessing look, most likely cataloguing it and filing this moment away for later inspection. With a shrug, he leaves for the door, ushering out any remaining spectators.

“Vee, I want to talk to you,” Kaz states quietly even when they’re alone in the room. “I came by your room last night but you weren’t there.”

“I was out,” Venom answers to the unspoken question. He doesn’t speak further.

“Do you want to talk now? Here?” Kaz tries to sound as neutral as possible. On one hand, they have the room for themselves now, but on the other hand, this wasn’t exactly a private area.

“Fine,” Venom sighs and leans on the table. He pats the glossy surface next to him, inviting Kaz to take a seat.

“I was thinking,” Kaz begins, leaning his weight on the table. “But before that, I want to – I’d like to,” he corrects himself. “To know what you think.”

Venom supports his head on his flesh and blood hand, eye squarely on Kaz’s face. This is one of those moments when Kaz thinks Venom can see straight through the sunglasses, can see his vulnerability as clear as day.

“Why do you think your injury, of all things, would hinder any personal involvement between us?” Every word is chosen carefully, said peacefully, to be as unoffending as possible. Sometimes it’s exactly what makes a statement offensive. There was just so much he didn’t know. What were Venom’s intentions, if any?

The sound of metal grating against metal filtered in through the high-set windows in the room.

“I don’t know how to put it into words,” he replied after a long pause. “I don’t want to lose your respect because I’m a lesser man, I guess.”

“You’re not a lesser man, Vee,” Kaz said sternly, emphasizing each word. “Not to me.” He placed his hand against Venom’s marred cheek. “Not because of that.”

Venom leaned into the touch, looking down.

“I’ll be in tonight.” There was weariness in that tentative invitation, like he still wasn’t sure this was a good idea after all.

“I’ll bring the brandy.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Background music for this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8z_rJHe_Jsw). :D

Back in the day, this would have been easy. Kazuhira would have knocked on the door with glasses and bottle in hand, giving his most charming smile with a wiggle of eyebrows after the door was opened. He’d pour the good lady (or lord) a drink, chit-chatted a little, flattered some, laughed a lot and then moved in for the kill. He’d slide into their personal space with some flimsy excuse like brushing a strand of hair off their face or miraculously seeing that their shoulders desperately needed a massage right now. Some he would kiss sweetly, gently, slowly easing them down on surface of choice. Others he’d push down with more force, but he always wanted them on their back, at least for a little while. It was in that moment, when he looked down upon his prey that he felt like the other had submitted to him. To him, to his charms, cementing their position as his conquest. Victory.

But Vee wasn’t exactly a conquest. Kaz didn’t know how he should approach him. Didn’t know how to approach this situation at all. What if all Venom wanted was a chat, like before this mess started, and Kaz was getting keyed up for all the wrong reasons? This was all kind of new territory for him. His age, his circumstances, his mentality… so much had changed.

“Come in,” Venom beckoned with a warm smile. It made Kaz a little nervous. There was mellifluous, jazzy music coming from the stereo player on the desk, the sound perfect for a cosy evening.

Once inside, he fished the slim bottle from his pant pocket and handed it over to Vee with glasses in tow from his other pocket. Venom’s mechanical hand adjusted carefully around the delicate rims of the glasses.

“Do you have any ice?” Kaz asked, looking around trying to decide where to sit. There was only one chair in the room where Kaz used to sit with Venom sitting on the bed. Would it be appropriate to presume and sit on the bed instead? Or if he hauled the chair closer to the bed, would that be seen as callous, or…

“No, sorry. It’ll be straight,” Venom replied. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch so a pair of mismatched eyes looked Kazuhira over. “Are you nervous? It’s unusual to see you like this.”

Kaz let out a small laugh. “Maybe a little. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.” Shit shit _shit_ that was probably the worst thing to say—

“I think you wanted to talk?” Venom sat down on the bed, placing the items in his hands on the nightstand and patted on the grey bedspread. “Sit, and I’ll pour you a drink.” He was already pouring the apple scented spirit into one of the glasses.

“It’s calvados,” Kaz said and ambled over, sitting down close (but not too close) to Venom. His right shirt sleeve hanged uselessly against his side. Venom’s attire seemed to be in contrast to the fine alcohol he was handing Kaz; a black tee and worn, olive college pants. Kaz noticed he wasn’t wearing any protection underneath the soft pants so the partial lack of his genitals was more discernible.

Kaz’s staring was interrupted when a glass entered his narrowed field of vision.

“Here,” Venom said with an amused voice.

“Thanks,” Kaz replied, averting his eyes. He removed his tinted glasses before accepting the liquor. If Venom was letting his physical shields down in Kaz’s presence, he should return the favour.

“I’m still not used to seeing you without your sunglasses,” Venom said, eyes openly fixed on Kaz’s face. He turned a little, folding a leg underneath him to face Kaz more direct.

Kaz took a sip of his drink. It tasted like the warmth of fire on a crisp fall day. “I guess it’s just fair. Although I might have to ask you to dim the lights.” The light fixture in the ceiling was not that bad if he didn’t look up. Sadly, lights on Mother Base weren’t equipped with a dimming option.

Venom was already back up, turning off the main light source in the room and instead using the adjustable arms of the strong reading lights to reflect soft light off the walls instead. The result was dimmer, but not too dark. It softened the lines on Venom’s face as he returned to his position on the bed, concealing imperfections in the slight shadows.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

Venom took a swig of his drink as well. There was an awkward tension building rapidly between them. Kaz stole glances at Vee’s body, trying his best not to stare. The peak physical form of the other was attractive, there was no denying that. But it was the kind of ruggedness that really turned Kaz on. Venom was full of jagged edges, nothing smooth and polished, from the little chip in his front tooth to the wiry facial hair and scarred skin. Somehow the smooth, young somethings didn’t appeal to Kaz anymore, at least not in the way they had before. Maybe it was age, or maybe his preferences had just changed during the years.

“So…”

“So, uh… What’s this music?” Kaz asked.

“Oh, it’s ‘Diamond Life’ by Sade. I thought it was appropriate,” Venom said with an uncharacteristic grin.

“You’re kidding.” Kaz saw that he wasn’t. The thought of Vee actually planning and preparing this meeting made him feel warm all over. The female singer with her sultry voice was singing over jazzy harmonies with a strong backbone of smouldering rhythms. Had Kaz still been in the womanizing business, he might had chosen this album himself.

“Can I ask you something?” Kaz finally said, deciding to break the awkwardness for good.

“Yes,” Venom exhaled. “Anything.”

“How do you… feel? You said you feel like a lesser man, but you know how everyone looks up to you.”

Venom leaned back, taking another sip of the apple brandy. “Yeah, I know. But they don’t know the truth. How would they react if they found out I’m the inferior Big Boss in every way?”

Kaz could hear fear and uncertainty behind those words. Self-doubt that was not eased by the impossibly high standards set by the legend of Big Boss. And to know that somewhere out there was another Big Boss, a whole one, without a face like a patchwork of skin, without shrapnel sticking out of their skull, with all limbs attached. What was the loss of an eye compared to all else John had?

“There’s a lot the men don’t know. Your medical history doesn’t need to be one of them,” Kaz said, drinking more of the brandy. It burned against his lips, trickling down his throat like liquid fire. “You’re right, we don’t know how they would react. My point is, they don’t need to know. But for any rational person… Vee, in every other sense of the word, you’re more than a man. Not less. You’re our Big Boss, our leader.”

“And to you? What am I to you?” Venom asked, voice tight. Was he nervous too?

Kaz exhaled loudly. “I’ll admit; I was a little shocked at first. There’s a lot to think about.” He watched Venom fidget with his glass. “I don’t think it really matters, though. Not to me. You’re still the person who saved my life and carried me home, who listens to me when I can’t talk to anyone else. We’ve come through so much together.”

“I see.”

“What I’m more agonized about in case we close this distance between us… We’re both broken people, Vee.”

“I know,” Venom said, looking over Kazuhira’s body with a mournful eye. He placed a hand on Kaz’s knee, his bad knee, softly. “Isn’t that what makes us fit together?”

Kaz blinked. “You mean like, two halves make a whole?”

“Yeah. Like fragments that make a piece.”

That was an oddly romantic notion, Kazuhira thought. “You’re not worried about double the baggage?”

Both of them had long, troublesome histories. Somehow Kaz couldn’t help feeling that anything he didn’t want Venom to know about – like the nightmares – would spill into the cracks between them.

Wasn’t it same with any relationship? The older you get; the more burdens you have from your past. In other cases, those burdens may have been previous marriages, children, jail stints for that time you got really angry and punched a guy too hard. In their case, those burdens were war and the traumas and horrors that came with it. For Kazuhira, it also meant the troubles of his childhood and youth. Venom still hadn’t recovered those memories and it if that happened, it would most likely mean more trouble.

They weren’t people who expected a white picket fence and retirement at sixty-five followed by years of softball or golf. They didn’t think they’d even make it to sixty, not with the lifestyle they were leading. Others would be sent home after being so injured, but for Kazuhira and Venom Snake, this was their home. There were no wives and children waiting at home for their fathers to return from a tour in a conflict zone. This was all they had.

“If you’re willing to work with my issues then I’m willing to work with yours,” Venom stated.

Kaz set his glass aside and put his hand on Venom’s, his left over their right. He mulled it over in his head, looking down at their joined hands. What harm was there to try? Here he was, adored by this impossible man, a man infinitely kinder than his predecessor, at least under the right conditions. A man who actually wanted Kaz, who truly saw him for all his faults and imperfections. A man who knew all about his path in life so far and still sat there on the bed with him, body turned towards him with one foot on the floor and a hopeful look on his marred face.

If they were able to work together after Zero’s plan was unveiled, surely they would be able to work together after a possible break-up.

Deciding that this was yet another step forward, he let his eyes and his hand wander up along Vee’s arm, his t-shirt clad shoulder, his neck and finally his weathered face. Kaz licked his lips unconsciously, his eyes alternating between Venom’s lips and the one seeing eye.

Vee leaned into the palm on his whiskery cheek, his wide mouth relaxing just a little.

“Yes,” Kaz breathed, and closed the distance between them.

Their noses brushed as their lips came into contact, this time with more thought than in the office before. Kaz took his time to really appreciate everything he sensed; the fullness of Venom’s lower lip, the warmth radiating from his skin so close. His eyes fluttered close, seeing the way Venom’s brow scrunched in pleasure. Venom leaned in even closer, gathering Kaz in his arms, the imprint of his hand warm through Kaz’s dress shirt.

Wet sounds arose from their kissing, not loud enough to be heard over the still-playing soulful music. Later, even years later, Kaz would remember the exact song that played during this moment, despite not paying attention to it in the moment.

The soft kiss with gentle movements quickly turned more passionate which made Kaz’s pulse immediately pick up, blood rushing to his face. Venom’s mouth tasted like sweet fruits, mixed together with the sharp tang of alcohol when Kaz explored it with his tongue.

“Kaz,” Venom sighed between kisses, half manipulating and half lifting Kaz onto his lap, pressing their bodies even closer together.

The hungry look Kaz had seen before on Venom’s features resurfaced, making his heart thump louder than before. With a shaky exhale, he dove back in to kiss that yielding mouth, to feel the wetness of Vee’s tongue against his own. It made his spine tingle and his head to light, the way Venom moaned into his mouth, the ever-present salty ocean smell circling around the scents of soap and leather and the human being beneath him.

Venom’s hands roaming on his body made his blood run hot and soon enough he felt his cock twitch into life. He tried to adjust himself on Venom’s lap to hide it, at least for the moment. There were so many questions he wanted to ask right now regarding sex, if that was what Venom wanted.

Venom dragged himself a little bit further onto the bed while keeping Kaz’s mouth occupied with quick kisses and gentle tugs on his lower lip. The shuffling made Kaz’s bulging erection very obvious, if not for the feeling of it pressing against Venom, then for the sharp intake of breath on Kaz’s part.

“Oh?” Venom asked, a trail of saliva hanging from his kiss-glistening lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh,” Kaz bumbled, not looking at his partner.

Venom’s hand slipped down between them to cop a feel of Kaz’s evident arousement. “No, it’s just… I’m a little surprised. Just from kissing?”

Kaz looked away, a little embarrassed. At his age… “It’s uh, been a while, you know.”

“What about that woman on the FOB?” Venom asked, a knowing smirk in his voice.

“Let’s not talk about that again, ever.” It had been such a horrible experience, one Kaz did not want to relive, especially not now. Or maybe it was the perfect thing to think about if he didn’t want to get turned on. But what about Vee? Sure, he wouldn’t be able to get hard in the traditional sense, but…

“Do you get aroused?” Kaz asked carefully. Venom responded by pressing his face into Kazuhira’s neck, inhaling deeply through his nose. Kaz got the distinct feeling he was being scented by an animal.

“I do. Oh, Kaz, you have no idea.” His words were hot, strained breaths of air against skin, teeth scraping with every word. “I get so horny and so frustrated and—“ He was grinding his hips against Kaz now, desperate for something he couldn’t get. His mechanical hand gripped Kazuhira’s hip hard enough to be a little uncomfortable. The flesh one was still kneading and stroking Kaz’s swelling bulge through his slacks.

“A-and do you get off?” His voice was a little weaker now, what with Venom palming him and nipping and sucking at his throat. There would definitely be marks, but Kaz couldn’t be bothered to think about consequences now, not with the fever in his blood. 

“I’ve managed that once,“ Venom’s words are heated, mouth leaving a trail of marks across Kaz’s throat. “I don’t know if I can again.” His fingers nimbly worked open Kaz’s belt and fly, fishing out his hardened cock. Kaz sighed, looking down between them to see Venom’s hand work up and down his shaft, slowly, teasingly. Any second now the dryness would turn unpleasant.

“Can I touch you?”

Venom shrugged, a little sheepish. “Sure.” He diverted his attention from Kaz’s dick to pull down his sweatpants past his hips and shimmied out of them completely. Kaz was only halfway through the same process when Venom was done and helping him do the same. Venom left his hand on Kaz’s prosthetic leg on purpose, waiting for his response.

“Leave it on for now.”

Venom pulled Kaz with him back on the bed, landing on their sides facing each other. Kaz couldn’t help feeling a little bubbly with endorphines, sharing a smile with the man just inches from him.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Kaz most definitely did not want to accidentally poke into something overly sensitive and have Venom doubling over in pain.

“No, unless you use a lot of force. Which goes without saying,” he added with a huff.

“Sure thing,” Kaz laughed. He tried to lean back a little to get a better visual while caressing Venom’s belly, his thighs, slowly creeping closer to his groin. Mostly he felt his way around, Venom helpfully bending his top leg to give Kaz more space. His inner thighs were surprisingly smooth to the touch. His stare alternated between Venom’s face for any signs of uncomfortableness and his crotch, trying to tune out everything else and just focus on Vee’s reactions.

There was the whirring noise of auto-rewind before the tape clicked back onto play, starting the album from the beginning. Kaz wasn’t aware Vee’s stereo could do that.

He brushed Venom’s balls with his knuckles, with so little pressure it might not have been a touch at all. Venom’s breath hitched and Kaz took it as a good sign. His fingers slid in to cup and fondle the testicles, a part apparently still very sensitive.

“Mmh, that’s good,” Venom confirmed.

Kaz noticed he was the one tense and sweating now, when he let the heel of his hand graze Venom’s stump. There was no grimace, no hiss of pain, so Kazuhira moved to explore this area too with his fingertips. He could feel the raised edges of the scars, touch as light as a butterfly’s legs. It was altogether a strange feeling for Kaz; Venom obviously had parts of male physiology but not all of it. He figured it would take some time to get used to it, like it probably had done for Venom himself too. Briefly he wondered about phantom pain but decided promptly to discard that question for now.

“Does this feel uncomfortable?”

“I don’t really feel it at all,” Venom replied, busying himself with Kaz’s neck and throat again, kissing and biting and sucking wherever he could reach. He created more space to explore by deftly popping the buttons on Kaz’s shirt open, lifting the white undershirt to reveal more pale skin.

“Sorry, you’re probably not used to, uh, I haven’t really been working out,” Kaz stuttered as Venom’s hand caressed over his softened belly, painfully aware of how unfit he was compared to Vee’s strapping form.

“Kaz. You’re gorgeous just the way you are.” Venom touches slid up Kaz’s side, pushing up the undershirt along, emphasizing his words with a searing kiss that had Kaz moaning into his mouth. He hooked a leg over Kaz, pulling him close and trapping his erection between them.

The friction Kaz’s dick was finally receiving was delicious. He couldn’t help thrusting up some, in dire need of more touches, more heat, precum forming at the tip. He grabbed a hold of Vee’s hips, joining their bodies with every thrust.

“Vee, I really--,” Kaz gasped, rutting faster against Venom’s pliant body. His eyes were glazed over, mouth not responding with much finesse to Venom’s frantic kisses. He was so close now, he could almost taste his release.

“I want to see you come,” Venom mumbled, intoxicated on breathing the same air as his lover.

But the feeling of rubbing his dick along Venom’s stomach wasn’t quite enough to push him over that last hurdle. Kaz closed his eyes and whined, frustrated at being so close and yet so far. He couldn’t put into words what he needed, what he craved right there and then, so instead he quickly captured Venom’s fingers in his mouth, sucking and covering them with saliva.

He didn’t see the way Venom’s eyes widened at that, pupil blown wide.

“Kaz—“

“Please,” Kaz pleaded and guided the spit-slicked fingers behind him, making his point. Venom picked up on the obvious and dipped his finger between Kaz’s cheeks, drawing a moan from him. Sensing the urgency in Kaz’s thrusting, he pushed a finger inside foregoing any kind of teasing.

“Ah, ah!” Kaz whimpered and felt the oncoming euphoria rushing over him. Venom’s finger felt so good inside him, his rutting causing him to thrust deliciously against the intrusion and finally, finally it was enough to send him over, muscles clenching rhythmically, seizing Venom’s arm tight. Just a few more thrusts and he was coming, spurting semen between their bodies, stickiness spreading on both of them.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Venom groaned, caressing the shivering blonde gently.

“What… what about you,” Kaz panted, leaning his forehead against Venom’s. Feeling the aftershocks course through his body made him realize how long it had been since he had felt this satiated, this limp and relaxed.

“Another day maybe, when we have more time,” Venom mused, staring intently at Kaz’s face, memorizing each twitch and pull on his features.

“Time,” Kaz repeated, looking around for a clock. Things like responsibilities started to slowly filter back to his mind as he came down from his high.

“It’s getting late,” Venom said, kissing his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead. “Why don’t you stay here for the night?”

Some tiny voice in his head tried to protest that it would be a bad idea if someone caught them coming from the same room the following morning, but that was soon drowned under the loud griping of another exhausted voice saying he’s never leaving this bed again. Not at least until morning.

“Yeah, just, help me get this off,” Kaz groused, kicking his bad leg feebly, feeling completely boneless.

With all the extra limbs off both men and all cleaned up, they fit unusually well on the single bed. Snug, nested in each other, like two halves of a whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [statisticsfag.tumblr.com](http://statisticsfag.tumblr.com)


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